


Online

by ProtoDan



Series: Mega Man HSAU [1]
Category: Rockman | Mega Man - All Media Types, Rockman | Mega Man Classic
Genre: Awkward Romance, Human AU, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Skype, Unhealthy Eating Decisions by Forte
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-10 00:57:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1152888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProtoDan/pseuds/ProtoDan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forte is an awkward, besotted dweeb who really should watch what he eats. Kinda-sorta part of the high school AU myself and Kathryn Shadow have been doing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Online

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jack (Protobutt)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Jack+%28Protobutt%29).



> For Jack, because I am a cheesy mofo. If you, the reader, are Jack, read all the way to the end notes, if you'd be so kind.  
> Considering you're always so kind, I'm not terribly concerned.

Forte is, arguably, the safest he’s ever been in his life. He’s in his own home, his brother is downstairs and I earshot, and they’re in a neighbourhood so crime-free that you couldn’t so much as fire a squirt gun without causing a scandal. Hell, they don’t even lock their doors here.

So why the fuck is he so paralysingly, pants-shittingly scared?

He stares at the computer screen and does not move, blink, or breathe. Gospel barks outside. An owl hoots. Forte sighs.

_Rock Light_

_11:28 P.M., Maryland, United States_

_this week has been great! ^w^_

_Offline_

 

Forte has lost count of how many times he’s read, re-read, and re-reread those words. One of those things is a like, though—he’s not in Maryland. If he was, there’s no way in hell Forte would be burning a hole through his laptop screen right now. No, Rock is on some sort of school trip in fucking Europe, where he’ll be backpacking for the next month.

Screwing his eyes shut, Forte runs his hands through his thick blond hair and groans. Typing a simple fucking _hello_ should not require the same amount of courage as jumping into oncoming traffic. Yet here sits Forte, eyeing Skype the way he would a venomous snake.

“Come on,” he mutters. “You can do this.”

…What is he even supposed to say? Hi, I don’t know you very well but do you think we could make out anyway? When I think about you I start feeling like I should probably visit the ER? You smell like freshly-cut grass, yes I do know what you smell like that’s not creepy is it?

I like you? In a gay way?

“FUCK!” Forte shouts, banging his head on the desk hard enough to bruise. Rubbing his aching skull, he glowers at the silent chat client.

Minutes pass. He gets up to let Gos back inside. Gospel trots up the steps behind him, nuzzling his master’s hand. Forte absently scratches the husky behind his soft ears. He drops back into his desk chair and idly tosses Gos’s rubber ball across the room, thinking and not even noticing how much his dog is drooling on his hand.

“Fuck it,” he eventually mutters, and starts typing.

 _hey rock_ , he begins. _how’s the old world? uncovered any ancient conspiracies?_

Wrinkling his nose, he deletes all but the greeting.

 _how’s europe?_ he writes. _the us hasn’t really changed since you left. i mean, besides not having you in it. we haven’t been taken over by killer robots or invented ftl travel, is what im getting at._

_zero won’t shut up about his big date with x last week. obnoxious fuck._

Forte frowns. Should he use less language? Is Rock offended by swearing? Shit, he doesn’t actually know. Huffing at himself, he places a question mark next to the word “fuck” and continues.

 _listen, i’ve got to level with you._ Oh God, here it comes. _i’ve got a… a thing for you. a gay thing._

Well, that came out wrong. But Forte knows if he stops to edit now he’ll never send this fucking message. He’ll get cold feet for the fifth time this week and then Rock will come back to the States and find a boyfriend and Forte will want to punch himself in the teeth for the rest of his life.

 _i know i don’t know you all that well, but you’ve always been so_ nice _to me and zeez, and that just... it has an effect on a guy after a while, you know? i’m pretty sure this wasn’t what you were going for, since you’re like that for everybody else, but. whatever._

_(i probably sound like a total moron, lmao.)_

_basically what i want to say_ , Forte continues, his typing growing more frantically-paced by the second, _is that i really, reallly like you. you’re cute. tbh i wouldn’t mind makeing out with you if you wanted to i guess. i should probably shut up soon._

_uh._

_do you want to like. mabe go on some kind of date? it wouldnt even have to be agter you came back to the us. like we could watch a movie online or something. i ddunno. i know you like anime stuff. we could watch some of that if you want?_

_idk._

_talk to you later i guess._

 

Screwing his eyes shut, Forte slams his finger on the Enter key. After a few seconds, he cracks one eye open, making sure he hasn’t made too many awful typos. Shit, he forgot to delete the question mark after that one “fuck.”

Whatever.

He worries his lower lip, staring at the slowly rotating circle  telling him his message hasn’t sent. (Thank God for that.) Forte runs his fingers through his hair again, swallowing his nausea. He’s not sure if he wants Rock to come online so he can just have an answer already, or for him to just never return to Skype so he doesn’t have to worry about rejection.

Either way, his stomach feels weird, and he’s not sure if it’s hunger or nausea. Forte sighs quietly and pushes himself out of his chair. He clicks his tongue at Gospel, beckoning him to follow down the stairs. Gos trots loyally behind, whining in concern.

Forte glances down at Gospel. Gospel stares up at Forte. Smiling weakly, Forte scratches the scruff of the husky’s neck. “Good boy,” he murmurs. Gos licks Forte’s hand, and for whatever reason, that strengthens Forte’s smile. “Good boy,” he repeats, a little louder, and Gospel barks happily.

He rifles through the fridge, not quite sure what he’s looking for but looking all the same. Eventually, he just settles on a jar of Nutella and some Chips Ahoy, because fuck it, if he’s going to eat comfort food, it might as well be the most unhealthy comfort food he can get.

Forte screws open the jar while he walks back up the stairs, scooping the thick spread with a cookie and tossing it into his open mouth. He decides then that yes, he definitely made a good culinary choice. Shoving his bedroom door open with his foot, he drops back down into his chair again, while Gospel lies down at his feet. Forte smiles down and idly scratches Gos’s belly with his toes.

Scooping some Nutella onto a second cookie, Forte looks up at Skype.

_Rock Light_

_11:45 P.M., Maryland, United States_

_this week has been great! ^w^_

_Online._

 

Forte stares. Looks away. Looks immediately back. No. Fuck, he has to have misread that. _Online._ Rock is online. Rock is online? Rock is online. The pencil icon starts moving; Rock is saying something. Rock read what he’d sent and Rock is saying something in response.

The cookie falls into the jar. Forte doesn’t notice. The pencil stops, and does not move again for several awful, agonising seconds.

 _you…_ Rock sends. A boulder drops in Forte’s stomach. _you like me? o:_

Forte gulps, his hands shaking. _yeah,_ he replies. _kind of. a lot. yeah. so. do you want tto. to do the date thing?_

He bites down hard on his lower lip and waits for an answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, Jack, wanna have a Skype date? (Don't feel as though you need to respond as publicly as I've asked, heh.)


End file.
